


Just Let The Light Shine From Your Soul

by subtropicalStenella



Series: 5 for 500 [10]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Gunner ended up being pretty kinky, M/M, Piercings, it's still ridiculously schmoopy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 06:44:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12163593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subtropicalStenella/pseuds/subtropicalStenella
Summary: 5 for 500 Prompt For Propheticfire: Good Thing You Didn't Die, Because I Want To Bang You Like A Drum, Lovingly





	Just Let The Light Shine From Your Soul

**Author's Note:**

  * For [propheticfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/propheticfire/gifts).



He smashes his elbow back against the door's keypad until it closes and nearly rips Gunner's undershirt trying to get it over his head. Gunner laughs, still kissing him, hands cupping his face like he does when he wants him to settle, to relax and he doesn't  _ want  _ to relax. Six fucking  _ weeks _ in a bacta tank, longer than he’d ever been inactive, Gunner sitting next to his tank every time he woke up--shit, the amount of favors he must have called in to swing that, get his watches and patrols covered--and then longer in rehab learning how to walk again and light duty. Couldn't even  _ fly  _ yet, he was fucking  _ done  _ relaxing.  Fucking  _ done  _ with taking it easy, getting nothing but gentle kisses because he's hurt, because he's recovering, done with taking it slow,  _ slow  _ they've taken fucking  _ years.  _ Years, fucking  _ years  _ he could have had this, had Gunner in his arms for real all this time if he hadn't been so fucking  _ stupid  _ and--

 

“ _ Hey…  _ Hey, babe. Babe, come on,” Gunner murmurs, pushing their foreheads together. “You’re not stupid. You're  _ not  _ stupid, okay? And we got plenty of time…”

 

He snorts, and Gunner chuckles wryly. “Fine, we got a couple hours tops before Done wants his office back, so--”

 

“So I want  _ you _ ,” he snarls, pushing into Gunner's space, hands on his chest. “I want you, Guns. I didn't know, I didn't  _ fucking know  _ how much I fucking need you until I almost fuckin _ died  _ and--” 

 

Gunner leans in again, kissing him hard and deep and a little desperate, effectively shutting him up. “I  _ know.  _ I know, babe, I do. Okay? And I got you now so don't think about it, okay? I know.” 

He nods carefully, leaning into Gunner's chest, into the kiss, letting his hands fall to Gunner's waist, inside the edges of the long flightsuit sleeves tied off on his hips. 

 

“I  _ got you _ , babe,” Gunner says again, rougher this time as he starts to pull the top his blacks open. “I got you and I  _ love you  _ and I wouldn't let Death take you and I  _ won't,  _ not without me, understand?” 

 

He lets Gunner strip his blacks back off his shoulders, pulling roughly, and he _ whines  _ eagerly  when Gunner leaves the slack bunched around his elbows, holding his arms back. 

 

“We're gonna fucking die someday but until then  I'm gonna fucking to make sure you feel  _ alive _ , babe,” Gunner growls, threading the fingers of one hand through the Cog freshly shaved into his scalp while the other skates over his chest, thumb rolling over his nipple before dropping low to cup him through his blacks, making him groan. 

 

Gunner grins against his slack mouth, the heel of his hand rubbing up and down the hard length of his cock through the thick material, just the right amount of pressure so he's caught between the soft nanoprene and his own lower belly, rutting shamelessly into his hand. 

 

“Too fuckin easy, babe,” Gunner purrs, making him tilt his head back and kissing down the length of his jaw, pausing to kiss the hotspot underneath. Not the pulse point, farther back, closer to his ear but not under it either. “Guess I know you pretty well, huh?”

 

“Fuck you,” he rasps shakily, shuddering as Gunner gives his balls a gentle squeeze and leans in more, pushing him back against the wall, duracrete cool against his bare shoulders.

 

Gunner chuckles into his ear. “Oh yeah?”

 

“Yeah, cos I  _ told  _ you, dicknuts,” he snaps, and gets an idea, stripping the sleeves of his blacks down his arms, pushing against Gunner's chest until he steps back, pushing him the short distance back into Done's desk as he continues. “And yeah _ , fuck you _ , because I know  _ you _ , babe.”

 

Gunner's ass hits the edge of the desk and he sits down hard, hands braced next to his hips, knees spread as wide as his smug grin in invitation.

 

“Know everything thing about you,” he purrs, leaning in to kiss him, hot and filthy, a hand on the back of his neck, digging his nails in until Gunner hisses approvingly into his mouth. “What makes you twitch, makes you shiver, makes you get  _ loud. _ ” 

 

He pulls the knotted sleeves apart, rips the flightsuit the rest of the way open, and Gunner is still grinning like a lothcat through their wet, biting kisses, even when he gets his hands in the band of Gunner's shorts, pulling them and the flightsuit down around his knees when he obligingly pops his hips up. He wraps his hand around the base of Gunner's already hard cock, determined to wipe that smug smirk off his face just for a bit, turn it into a ragged moan.

 

“Know every fuckdamn inch of you, babe,” he says, face buried in the crook of Gunner's neck as he slowly strokes up the length of his cock--

 

\--only to pull up short, confused at his sudden handful of red ribbon.

 

“The  _ hell? _ ” he blurts incredulously, torn between  _ aw cute  _ and  _ kinky _ . “Did you seriously tie a bow around your dick?”

 

“Not exactly,” Gunner says, snickering and waving him aside so he can carefully untie the bright, slightly damp bow threaded through… through the thick gold-toned  _ ring _ protruding from his slit and disappearing again under the head. “You got your new kicks, so I thought, y’know, I should get some kinda mods so we still sorta match?”

 

He really can't do anything but stare.

 

“Oh fuck, you hate it.” 

 

He blinks. “What? Fucking-- _ no!  _ Shit, man, nevermind. Fuck  _ me! _ ”

 

“Yeah, thought so,” Gunner laughs, sitting up to dig around in the leg pockets of his flightsuit, and then laughs harder and reaches out to steady him when he gets his blacks tangled around the plates of his knees. “Easy, babe. C’mere.”

 

“Shut up,” he mutters, but he's grinning as he kicks himself free, climbing up onto the desk, into Gunner's lap.

 

His alusteel shins scrape over the edge as Gunner runs his hands up his thighs, middle fingers following the thick, slightly indented scars running up past his hips, where they’d ripped out what was left of his femurs and replaced them with support rods. More alusteel. He shivers at the touch, and again at the next that continues on until Gunner grabs his ass and pulls him forward with a low growl. He answers it with a moan as the motion lines them up, his cock rubbing against Gunner's as it slides between his thighs. 

He slings his arms around Gunner's shoulders and leans into it, into him, pressed against his chest and kissing him hungrily.  He  _ could  _ stop the eager roll of his hips, stop rutting against Gunner's stomach, if he wanted, but then again, Gunner isn't stopping him. Gunner has both hands on his ass, guiding him and swearing softly into his mouth all the while, a long string of  _ fuck  _ and  _ babe  _ and  _ shit  _ all blurring together into soft, gasping moans.

 

“Th-Thought you wanted to fuck me?” he rasps, nipping at Gunner's bottom lip, his chin, along his jaw.

 

Gunner responds with a sort of strangled grunting noise, which is understandable, since he’d just swivelled his hips the way that always seemed to make other guys’ brains short out for a bit, Gunner's cock caught in the crease of his thigh, sliding on a bit of precum. It takes a moment for Gunner to rally, collect his thoughts, but he does.Gets his hands up on his hips to hold him still, leaning in to push his forehead into his shoulder, drag his teeth across the curve of his collarbone. 

 

“Yeah,  _ yeah  _ I do babe,” Gunner mutters, biting down harder and then licking over the mark, sucking at it, left hand fumbling for whatever he'd dug out of his pocket earlier. 

 

It's a packet of bacta, smuggled out of some kit or another, and he can't help a chuckle. “Pretty sure I've gotten sick of this stuff.” 

Gunner rips the packet open in his teeth, grinning, and it makes him shiver. “Bet I can change your mind,” Gunner purrs, slicking his fingers and reaching back. 

 

He sits up a little straighter, hissing, “Fuckin  _ cold--”  _ and Gunner laughs, pressing an apologetic kiss to his throat and wrapping his free arm around his waist. He moans a little, raking his hands through Gunner's hair as Gunner hums contemplatively to himself and  _ sucks _ on the soft skin of his throat. It's going to leave a mark. There's going to be a  _ lot  _ of marks, expertly placed along the where hems and seams of his blacks would lie, because Gunner is a little possessive and likes his partners to have reminders well after an encounter. Bruises and love bites that would sting and burn and rub for  _ days _ . He's seen them on others but never gotten any, not from Gunner, and the realization that he'll be wearing those marks,  _ only him, forever _ , is almost more of a turn-on than the way Gunner's fingers are sliding up and down the cleft of his ass. 

_ Almost.  _ He's torn between rolling his hips back into Gunner's hand and pressing closer to his chest, cupping Gunner's face in  _ his  _ hands to kiss him. Gunner pulls him close, an arm around his waist to hold him steady as he pushes a finger into him. 

It's necessary, because he stiffens and moans into Gunner's mouth, shaking. It's too much at once and it's  _ perfect _ , exactly what he wants, and it makes him rut a little more enthusiastically against Gunner's stomach, Gunner's wrist flexing against his ass as he pumps his finger slowly.

 

“Been playing on your own?” Gunner murmurs, half muffled by their kiss but sounding mostly calm and collected despite the way his cock is twitching between their thighs, painfully hard and slick-shiny with precum.

“Not like  _ you  _ were gonna, fuckin tease,” he growls, and rocks back onto Gunner's hand until he speeds up, twisting his hand a little to find an angle that makes him moan helplessly with every stroke. 

“Didn't wanna hurt you, love,” Gunner says, and gives him another finger.

“S-sleenshit, you were just waiting for your dick to heal up and didn't want to ruin the surprise,” he laughs, when he can breathe again. 

“Maybe also that,” Gunner laughs, or starts to, but it's cut off into a surprised  _ nngk?! _ as he reaches between them to curl a hand around Gunner's cock, rolling the bead in the ring back and forth with his thumb. 

“ _ Told you _ ,” he says, and does it again, fingers sliding easily over heated skin and smooth metal. He’d palmed the packet of bacta and squeezed it out into his hand behind Gunner's back. “I know you.” 

“Yeah, you do,” Gunner rasps, and cups both hands under his ass, hauling him forward and up on his knees. “C’mere.” 

“ _ Shit  _ yeah, give it to me--” he pants, shifting, lining him up. The metal ring is warm as Gunner's skin but he can  _ feel _ it pressing into him. 

 

Can feel Gunner surge up and forward, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist, hand around his own wrist and his fist pressed into the small of his back, locking him into his arms. Bottoming out in one long smooth motion as he shudders and swears. 

Gunner buries his face in the crook of his neck and the tangle of their shoulders, a long, desperately drawn out  _ fffuuuckk  _ breathed hot and damp into his collarbone.

 

“Oh  _ fuck,  _ oh fuck fuck  _ fuck _ \--” he pants back. It's good, it's  _ so  _ good, the hot throb of Gunner's cock deep inside him. He could swear he can still feel that fucking piercing even with Gunner holding him still, keeping him immobile and hilted on his cock. It's  _ perfect  _ it's not enough, he needs more, needs to  _ move _ , but Gunner's arms keep him still.

Until they tighten, rocking him forward the small amount of space left between them, his cock rubbing between their stomachs, making him moan. Gunner relaxes a bit, not letting him go, just enough to let him rock backwards in his lap before pulling him forward again.  _ Oh fuck _

He can't think, can barely breathe, arms wrapped around Gunner's neck, clinging to his shoulders as they rock back and forth together, skin pressed to every inch of skin. The tiny rocking motions push Gunner's cock against his prostate with every backstroke, precum hot and slick between them as he ruts against Gunner's stomach, and Gunner is moaning quietly into his chest--

 

“-- _ good, so good so fucking good--” _

\--and he finds himself answering. “ _ Fuck  _ yes, babe, fuck,  _ fuck _ oh fuck fuck  _ fuck I'm ghhk-gonna cum!” _

 

Gunner just holds him tighter, lifting his head to kiss him again, stealing the breath from his lungs as he tenses up and finally  _ shuts up _ , choked off and shuddering and painting their chests with streaks of cum as Gunner follows him over the edge with a feral growl. 

He lets Gunner cling to him for a bit, shivering through the aftershocks and dragging lazy kisses along his throat, adding another mark, and then Gunner  _ hisses  _ painfully, mournfully, when he slides off his dick and clambers out of his lap. 

 

“What’re you…?”

“Letting  _ you  _ show off, dicknuts,” He snickers and grabs his blacks, trying to pull them on as quickly as he can. “You like it when a guy has to walk down the hall with your cum runnin down the inside of his blacks, right?” He pulls his top back on too, but leaves the collar open wide to show off the blooming roses on his neck and leans in to lightly kiss a very stunned, blushing Gunner on his slack mouth. 

“ _ Fuck,  _ I love you,” Gunner says, and hops off the desk, nearly tripping over the flightsuit still around his ankles. 

 

_ Best wingman. _


End file.
